Tortured Flames
by Dragonsgirl16
Summary: The rise of the Muggle Rebellion saw the wizarding community almost extinct and because of this a broken Freya Potter, wanting only to die, stumbles into Middle-Earth. Alone and afraid she must find her strength to help the Fellowship in their task to defeat the One Ring. But can she overcome her fear and demons or will she be left forever in the darkness of her mind. femharry
1. Prologue

A/N: Okay so another story. I will update my other ones but I have lost my inspiration for them for the time being so I am writing this lovely story whilst I work on getting it back. I've wanted to do a HP/LOTR story for ages and figured now would be a good time to start.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing and merely play around with things.

Warning: this chapter contains some (a lot) of death and mentions of rape

Once again this story features a fem harry (called Freya) but it is slightly darker than what I've written before so I would appreciate your opinions on it.

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She was drowning, she had to be, how else could she explain the crushing pressure she felt against her body? What else could cause her lungs to dry up and ache like those of an old lady? Nothing but the cold tempest of the water could make her insides burn as she tried to gasp for air. They say that in those last moments, those precious seconds before you die you replay your memories, as if you were simply a spectator in the audience. They lied. Freya wished she could watch her life, pitiful as it was, on that film reel perhaps then she would feel no pain as her life was sucked from her body with each gargling water filled breath. No instead she was forced to re live the horror, the cold hearted torture that she had faced prior to her execution. They lied. Death wasn't peaceful, it wasn't filled with the happy smiling faces of loved ones, it was painful and filled with nightmares. Surprisingly enough it wasn't Voldemort that killed her, nor his followers. In fact they weren't even magical at all, it was the muggles.

It wasn't surprising that after the events with Voldemort the muggles would find out about magic. The full out battles the aurors had each day with the remaining Death Eaters and other dark wizards was like lighting a flashing neon sign to muggles and as human nature dictates, that which we don't understand we fear. The muggles feared in the most extreme ways, their fear became anger and that anger grew to what was labelled as the Muggle Revolution. They began to hunt down those with magic, even those without were strung up, burned, drowned but before that they were tortured, brutalised to the point of insanity. Science had created a pill to stop the magic inside the witches and wizards from acting out, it stopped them from using magic at all. But what the muggles later found out was that to contain that raw power was a bad idea, a magical explosion would blow the wizard or witch apart a long with its surrounding. However muggles can be creative, they saved some witches and wizards so they might watch them explode, tickets to see such an event were gone fast and far too high a price. The scientist kept working at the magical binding, using all their knowledge and combining several metals and fusions, they were able to create a substance that blocked the majority of the wearer's magic, leaving them little more than a squib. They were turned into pets, sold only to the elite, kept as playthings to the amusements of their masters. Once the amusement ran dry they were either sold to someone else or killed.

The magical community tried to fight back but they were too few, their technology less advanced and they were still recuperating from the battle with Voldemort. Children were torn from their beds, babies from their mothers' breast, men, women and all manner of creatures were humiliated and tortured in the cruellest of ways. It started slow, a few missing people but the connection wasn't made until it was too late. Once a month on the same date a person would go missing, then it was once a week, then once a day until full out witch hunts began and they massacred many magical citizens in days.

Freya Potter watched it all happen, heartbroken at the display of unnecessary violence. She defended herself and her friends to the best of her abilities, regretting her decision to toss aside the elder wand. But even the strongest of walls must crumble at some point and so she fell, her friends taken captive and she, the hero of the wizarding world, was kept as a pet, a trophy to the highest bidder. She didn't remember much of her capture, nor her time spent in the Dungeons. She had heard tales of the Dungeons before but the only thing she could remember now were the screams, terrified and crazed. The cold made her shiver each night, hoping and praying that she would die of pneumonia before she could be sold. They kept her drugged and for the most part she slept. The only thing she could remember was the auction.

The auction house was a large estate in the east of England, the large courtyard was where they held the auctions. Freya was pulled from her cell, dimly aware of her surroundings as the two guards forced her forwards. She was bathed by her fellow witches who looked on, pity in their gaze for they knew what they had suffered would be nothing compared to what their saviour would suffer. Naked she was pulled to the stage, where she was displayed in front of the crowds of men and women who leered and stared at her with both disgust and interest. She could only here snippets of what the auctioneer was saying, her mind filled with fog as the haze of the drugs tried to lift itself from her brain.

"Sold!" the loud cheerful voice startled Freya out of her trance like state and before she could even struggle a large hand was clasping a collar around her neck, instantly she knew what was happening. She was now to be the pet of some arrogant spoiled lord, her green eyes narrowed slightly as a flare of stubbornness shot through her body. She wouldn't be told what to do like a slave, she had done enough of that at the Dursleys.

"I have heard all about you, the precious girl-who-lived. How I have longed to have in my possession," the voice that was whispered into her ear was cruel, mocking and filled with malice. "I hope you can survive me, but then again I wish to break you. I will break your soul and make you regret the day you were born witch."

"Go to hell," Freya managed in a croaky whisper, barely audible but the slap across her face told her he had heard her all the same. Her cheek stung and as she was dragged away she knew there was going to be bruise. She felt alone suddenly, her magic which had usually comforted her was now untouchable, aside from the few simple abilities to keep her from blowing up. Tears built up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall, she would not show weakness in front of these people. But as she stared stubbornly out of the window inside the moving vehicle she was unaware to the evil smirk her captor held.

Her time spent with her captor was short, for she didn't take too long to break. How much amusement could a girl who had seen death many times bring to someone who revelled in the tortured screams of his victims? The man tortured her cut her skin and bled her to point of death, watching in mild fascination as her magic healed her. The only part of her magic able to fully show itself was to heal her. Every night she was forced to lay there as the man, who she quickly realised was a lot worse than Voldemort, raped her. Her body felt dirty and no matter how many times she bathed and scrubbed at her body she never feel clean again, her innocence had been given to a man by force and she would forever be impure and used. Her body broken by the cruelty of the muggle man. What broke her mind and spirit was witnessing the murder of her best friends. Ron was taken to the Arena, and green eyes were forced to watch as he exploded in front of her, his blood and guts washing over her. She heard her captors cruel laughter as she sat at his feet immobile in her shock. Hermione had been raped and chopped into tiny pieces by the man known only as the Executioner, Freya could still hear the high pitched screams of her friend as the knife cut into her.

A broken toy, that was all she was, and she craved death.

When her captor married she had hoped he would stop in his treatment of her but it never stopped, not even as his wife bore him an heir. Freya was never left alone and because of her captors attachment towards her, his wife resented her and punished her as though she wanted to feel his slimy hands all over her body. She tried taking her life many times but no matter what she tried she could never achieve her own death, her magic would bring her back or she would be found before the job was done. No she realised she needed to do something bad, something against the rules if she wished to be released from her prison, her own personal hell.

It was as she was walking the halls, bringing her captors breakfast that she heard the cry, the baby boy the heir of her captor was all alone in his nursery. Freya entered the room quietly, placing the breakfast on the floor, staring with dead eyes at the baby in the crib, her hand reaching for the knife beside the plate. She approached the crib, wondering briefly if she should kill the babe, an innocent child. Her broken mind brought up a picture of her godson, covered in bruises his arm missing from where they cut it off to feed the dogs. Her hand rose, knife clenched tightly as she realised, yes she could do this. The child would grow up to be like his father, cold and cruel and killing the baby would be her last act of revenge before she got her death for in this new world, killing a muggle child was an instant death by drowning. She smiled then, for the first time in what seemed like years, bringing the knife down hard she stabbed into the flesh below her. Not listening to screams, not even noticing the baby as she only thought of her death, her release from the tortured hell her captor brought her.

That was how the girl-who-lived found herself in the lake, drowning and as she closed her eyes to what would be the final time she smiled, finally happy to rejoin her loved ones.

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A/N: So what do you think? No lotr yet but this was only the prologue.

I want your honest opinion on this because I'm experimenting with my writing and this story will be pretty dark. Hopefully not too dark.

Please review.


	2. Valinor and the Valar

A/N: I'm liking this story, its fun to write.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Warnings: Mentions of rape and torture.

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Freya frowned as she came into awareness, her foggy mind trying to piece together what had happened. Memories surfaced one after the other until the final memory of being thrown into the lake surfaced causing her to shoot up into a sitting position, her eyes going wide. She was dead wasn't she? She had felt her life leave her body and remembered succumbing to the darkness, so was she dead? She glanced down to her body and frowned once again, she looked real enough and unlike the ghostly apparitions she had seen before. So where was she?

"You are in the Halls of Mandos child, on the shores of Valinor," a soft feminine voice spoke out, answering the unspoken question. Freya's body jerked in surprise and she quickly got to her feet, facing the woman who had spoken. Her eyes narrowed and she backed away slightly her hand immediately going for the wand that wasn't there, her body was tense and ready for action as she felt, with some joy, her magic stirring in the desire to be used. Her cold green eyes watching and waiting for the opportunity to strike against the veela-like creature in front of her.

"I assure you I am no veela child, I am one the Valar. My name is Nienna and I am the Lady of Mercy," the blonde haired valar moved forwards, only to pause as Freya moved away in response. She sighed before reaching into her sleeve and pulling out a familiar phoenix feathered wand that had Freya's eyes widening in want and distrust, Nienna held the wand out to her. "Take it child, it will put you at ease and make it easier for you to understand what is happening."

"So I'm not dead." Freya stated sharply as her hands twitched in the need to hold her wand, though she waited looking for some trap, a deceit hidden within the words of the thing before her. She sneered at the thought of herself still alive. "It seems I can never die properly. I do not know nor do I care who you are, I only want to rest in peace."

"You are dead child, right now your soul is resting in the Halls of Mandos, though I believe you would know them as the Halls of the Dead. We will soon be leaving these halls though, for the Valar have a task for you to complete." Nienna smiled at the girl, motioning with her hands to the tall iron gates behind her. The gates were open, a clear indication that they were to leave, but Freya merely stepped back unwilling to go beyond the gates.

"If I am dead then I shall wait here."

"You misunderstand me, you do not have a choice in the matter." Nienna gave the young witch a grim smile before snapping her fingers. The scenery around them blurred and faded, leaving Freya in a new place. This time she was surrounded by fourteen creatures, sitting in a circle around her, almost like her trial at the ministry for her use of magic against the dementor. This comparison had her edge, her body even more tense as her fight or flight response began to kick in, she could feel the power that these beings gave off and knew that fighting and fleeing would gain her nothing. She was outnumbered and out classed and she didn't like it at all.

"Welcome to Valinor, Freya Potter, the girl-who-lived," the one who spoke stood slowly, looking every bit as regal as only the most pompous of purebloods could achieve. Freya frowned, welcome indeed, to a place she did not want to be. "I am Manwë, King of the Valar."

"You expect me to bow or something?" Freya asked once she realised he was looking at her for longer than necessary.

"Such disrespect child," Manwë laughed only to stop short at the sneer Freya gave.

"Child? I have been called that constantly. I am no child."

"You are a child to all of us dear," Nienna said, smiling sadly at the girl.

"Children are happy and innocent, they are ignorant to the world's horrors. I am not, nor have I been a child for a very long time." Freya said coldly, watching with disinterest as Nienna looked away, tears slipping from her sky blue eyes.

"I know," was the whispered reply Freya received from the Lady of Mercy.

"There is a darkness around your heart and soul Freya Potter. Be careful not to succumb to it. We know your story, we saw what has happened to you but your tale is not yet finished. You need to remain strong for once again the journey before you is not an easy one." Manwë spoke, his voice serious and loud in the echo of the room.

"No," Freya said desperation in her tone now, "I just want to die, I did my part, I played my role and now I... I cannot go through that again...I want to be left alone."

"We are sorry for what we must do to you but trust that the outcome will be different than the previous outcome. You shall travel to a different world, our world, but we cannot tell you more than this for you must find your own path." He was clear in his words, leaving no room argument as he stood and retrieved an item from behind his chair. "I believe you are familiar with this sword."

"The sword of Gryffindor," Freya exclaimed, her hands reaching for the sword, clasping around it gently. Before she could pull away Manwë grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, whispering in her ear.

"Do not succumb to the dark. Remember happiness can be found even in the darkest of times."

And then she was falling.

OoO

_She was tied the bed, the rope cutting into her skin as she struggled to get free, a whimper escaping her throat as big fat tears fell from her eyes. Her eyes were wide, pleading with her captor not to do this but his only response was a dark chuckle._

"_Come now, don't look so afraid my pet we are only going to play," he chuckled again, his voice making her shiver in disgust and fear, her stricken eyes never leaving him as the followed him around the room. He was toying with her but they had played this game before, many times and she knew not to call out, not to beg him to stop because that only encouraged him more. She always failed though, her mouth would speak without her consent and plead and beg and cry out for him to stop. "Though this time, it will be more fun for both of us. Tell me my pet have you been touched before?"_

_Her eyes widened further still, trying to jerk away from him as his hand trailed along her upper thigh, his meaning clear to her as she cried harder, "please, don't do this. Please." She begged him desperate for him not to touch her like that, she could take the knife and hot iron rod but she could not take the loss of her purity, the one thing that remained untouched on her body._

"_Oh my dearest pet, you beg so prettily," he laughed again, his hand moving further up her thigh. A finger reached out to rub, almost gently, across her womanhood before retreating, a cruel laughter escaping him. "No, I shan't, not yet. I want you compliant and broken before I take you, there is still a fire in your eyes that I wish to snuff out before I take your virginity."_

_A tongue licked across her ear, cold and slimy making her shiver before his lips pressed roughly against hers, that same tongue demanding entrance into her mouth. She glared up at him as he kissed her, his eyes bore into her own before defiance stuck her and she bit hard on his tongue feeling his blood drip into her mouth. He pulled away quickly with a hiss before he backhanded her, her head snapped to the side but she couldn't help the smug satisfaction she felt at making him bleed. _

"_Have it your way then," he said almost sounding resigned and sad but she knew he would take great pleasure in what would come next, in fact she often felt his pleasure at hurting her on her body as his semen would mix with her blood after he pleasured himself over her mangled body. She watched dully as he grabbed the dagger from the bedside table, it was pretty she noticed, silver with emerald gems dotted along the handle, a knife for a Slytherin. She smiled slightly, her mind conjuring up the memory of her venture into the Slytherin common rooms under the polyjuice potion as Daphne Greengrass to get information from Malfoy on the heir of Slytherin. _

"_Oh, what's this?" She was startled from her memories as a hand caressed her cheek, "you are smiling pet, does this mean you enjoy our little games?"_

"_Go to hell bastard!" She snarled at him._

"_Oh my dear pet, we are already there." He brought the knife down slicing deep into her upper arm, watching in pleasured satisfaction as Freya's head tilted back and she screamed. "You scream so prettily."_

OoO

She woke with a start, her eyes darting around her surroundings as she panted, her breath short and sharp as her hands clenched around two objects. She looked down her eyes finding the sword and her wand, her breathing calmed almost straight away at seeing the wand. She stood, her eyes taking in her surroundings in a slower fashion, she was out in the open but under the cover of darkness. A lumos spell later and she was able to see clearer, she wondered which way to go before her gut told her east was her safest option. She continued to walk east, checking her wand occasionally to make sure she was going the same direction, never stopping even as the moon rose high into the sky. The flat lands she was walking along seemed never-ending and wondered when she would hit some form of civilisation. Her wonderings were short coming though when she stumbled upon a group of creatures, ones that looked less than friendly. They talked in a language she didn't understand and from the harsh sounds she felt like she didn't want to know. Carefully she backed away, not wanting to have a confrontation when she was severely out numbered.

"Well looky what we have 'ere lads." Freya froze as the voice spoke out, this time a language she new, and every eyes turned to her. "A walking meal and one that looks so delicious."

"Leave me a-alone," she cursed inside her head for the stutter, clearly she failed at sounding tough. Her breathing began to speed up as they advanced on her, her feet taking slow measured steps back as she began to feel hysteria and panic creep up on her.

"Oh look at that boys, she wants us to leaves her alone," They all chuckled as the one closest to Freya grabbed her causing her to scream much to the delight of those around her. "Oh she screams so prettily don't you think boys?"

Freya stiffened.

"_You scream so prettily."_

The phrase echoed around her head and suddenly she felt a bubbling anger rise up within her. A snarl tore from her throat as she looked up with hate filled eyes and slowly taking a step towards the creature she smiled. It was a smile unlike any that had shown before and as the creatures around her seemed to pause slightly, she giggled. "Oh but I want to hear you scream," she said, her voice sounding sweet and innocent as she raised her wand, her smile vanishing and her eyes glowing viciously, "crucio."

She closed her eyes, just listening to the screams around her, it seemed her magic was delighted to be used again for not only had the spell worked on the creature that grabbed her but on all the others too. They fell to the ground screaming in pain and Freya could only laugh. She was free. She had her magic back. She was happy. She turned from the group of the ugliest creatures she had seen and walked away, not before turning back and smirking as she raised her wand once more. "Fiendfyre," she continued east, walking on until the screams no longer reached her ears, her magic swirling happily around her.

She had no idea how long she walked the sun rose and set as did the moon, she no longer counted the days for she no longer cared. She ate berries and the rabbits she caught with her magic, drank water from the streams and bathed there too. Her clothes had seen better days but she didn't care, she had her freedom. No one would take it from her.

She was startled awake one day by the sound of a horse galloping in her direction, quickly she rose to her feet unsure as to whom this rider was and whether he was friend or foe. She bit her lip anxiously as she waited, the sound of galloping and, oddly enough, bells getting closer. She watched as the rider appeared in her line of sight, quickly getting closer before slowing down and stopping a few feet away. Her hands gripped both her weapons as her eyes remained alert. The stranger dismounted from the horse and walked closer to her, giving her an easy smile that had her relaxing slightly. She gave him the quick once over, noticing immediately the ethereal aura he gave out and the point of his ears, he was equipped with a bow and a sword but the kindness in his eyes had her relaxing her grip on her weapons and giving him an unsure, weary smile.

"You are Lady Potter yes?" He asked her, his voice gentle and alluring, much like those that had called themselves the Valar.

"Not lady, but Potter yes. Freya Potter." She looked at him curiously, his manner unlike any she had seen before. "What are you?" she blushed slightly as she realised she had blurted it out loud.

"I am an elf," he said, amusement shining in his eyes before he placed a hand over his heart and bowed, "I am Glorfindel. Gail síla erin lû e-govaned 'wîn," he straightened out and Freya saw with some annoyance that the twinkle of amusement had deepened.

"Yes, well you know my name apparently and I hope you know it's rude to speak in another language when the person you are talking to doesn't understand it." Freya rolled her eyes but they were drawn to the beautiful horse as it shifted slightly making the bells ring. "Why are you here?"

"I am here to retrieve you," Glorfindel smiled once again and held out his hand, "Lord Elrond has had a vision of you and has been tasked with the job of training you in weaponry."

Freya thought about declining the offer, not wanting to rely on anyone but herself however it would be nice to learn how to use this sword and perhaps how to use a bow, but she didn't like the idea of being surrounded by people who spoke a different, much more flowery, language than her own. Maybe she could get them to teach her that as well. She nodded slowly and, ignoring the hand stalked towards the horse, only to pause once she reached it. She bit her lip as she realised she didn't know how to get on the thing let alone ride it.

"His name is Asfaloth," The amused voice washed over her, telling her he knew exactly why she hadn't attempted to get on the horse. The horse snorted slightly as if he too found it funny and Freya sighed in response. "Come, I shall help you up and then we shall head back to Rivendell and the house of Lord Elrond."

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A/N: Wow that was something wasn't it?

So Freya is a little...unhinged... but that's to be expected right?

What did you think of the little dream/flashback sequence? It was hard to write so I would really like your opinion on it.

Please review.


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